


Old Friends, New Beginnings

by Lavenderbreeze



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Baby, Bourbon - Freeform, Butt Grab, Chicago Fire - Freeform, Chocolate, Court, Drag King, F/M, Family, Harley Davidson - Freeform, Homemade Raft, Hurt/Comfort, Legal, Love, Pacifico, Past Relationship(s), Sarcasm, Sexuality, Shrimp Veracruzana, Support, friends - Freeform, grass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6850354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavenderbreeze/pseuds/Lavenderbreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day by day, things have been going from bad to worse for Wallace Boden.<br/>Horrific fires, pulse pounding river rescues, and losing his son.<br/>Who will save him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Friends, New Beginnings

It was early in the morning, and Wallace Boden was startled awake by a loud bang on the wall.

Eyes wide open, it took him a moment to adjust to his surroundings. Hand on his chest, breathing hard, Boden closed his eyes again. He had worked the night shift, and it had been insane. There had been three fires and a river rescue. A reluctant river rescue. A few drunk frat boys had taken a home-made skift made of duct tape and inflated juice bags, had tried to pole their way across the river, but one of the guys had lost the pole. The others tried to make up for the loss of it by using their hands, and a 40 of bourbon as paddles.

When squad attempted to reach them and tow them back to safety, the one with the bottle drained it, before chucking it at Cruz.

The boys started screaming at them to leave them alone, that they were doing just fine. The problem was that the more they fussed and carried on, the more the skift went underwater, bobbing as it broke apart.

Two of the guys fell in the water, leaving the third to try and fish them out, becoming more and more terrified as time went on.

The two in the river fought and swore at their would-be rescuers, even as they were being hauled out of the cold, dirty water.

It had gone down-hill from there.

Boden started dozing again, when he heard a door slam.

Sighing, he hoisted himself out of the guest bed, and went to see what Donna was doing now.

They'd had a fight the night before, and he hadn't even been really sure what it was about. But he knew that it was a fight; it was a prelude to the end.

He stuck his head around the corner and peered into the master bedroom, to find a note pinned on the lampshade. He took it off and read the three words. "At my mother's!"

Boden wasn't sure why it needed an exclamation point, his tired mind thinking briefly that it made her sound excited about it. Thinking that it was nice that she had only added one, rather than, say nine, which would have made her seem manically exhilarated to be leaving. Maybe she was, he thought to himself as he went to the nursery to see if Terrence was still there.

Boden looked in the crib, and sighed, leaning on the side-rail.

Terrence was gone. He didn't know whether to cry or scream. She didn't even ask if it would bother him if she took their baby.

She hadn't even said a word about leaving, she just got up and left.

Boden wandered back to the bedroom, aimlessly. He sat on the edge of the bed, his face in his hands.

Taking a deep breath, he cast his eye around the room, a sudden realization hitting him: she had planned this. It wasn't just because of the shitstorm last night (the one she had started), it was more than that. It was everything, and she had decided to use it as an excuse to just bring around the denouement of their marriage.

Unbidden, memories surrounding his father's death and funeral swarmed at him like tsetse flies, filling him with pain and anger.

He rose to his feet, and rapidly strode to her side of the bed. Snatching the lamp from the table, he hurled it into the adjacent wall, shards of glass and pottery spun through the air, some embedding themselves into the walls.

He went down the stairs three at a time, and went to the garage. He made his way to the back corner, knocking aside boxes of Donna's miscellaneous collections, ignoring the items that spilled out as they hit the floor.

He kicked over a box of her home-made Christmas ornaments, and went to his punching bag. He didn't bother to wrap his hands. Instead, he just pulled them into fists and began pummeling the heavy bag.

He worked it over until, he felt something wet splatter up his wrist. Boden wiped the sweat from his face and opened his eyes to see that he had split the knuckles on his left hand. He flexed his fingers, and found he could barely open them, they were so battered and bruised.

"Damn it." He hissed through his teeth, starting to shake from the adrenaline.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He remembered when he was younger, and he got too strung out from the adrenaline and pushing himself too far, he'd passed out. He wasn't as young or as fit as he was once, so he figured he'd better call it quits for now.

He went up to the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge.

He pulled out a Red Stripe, and cracked it open, gulping back half the bottle as he leaned against the counter.

Boden lowered the ale and set his empty hand on the counter-top. He froze as his hand closed around something soft and worn.

He looked at the object under his fingers. It was Terrence's favorite toy; Dani Dog. It was a multi-coloured, raggedy toy that Wallace's mom had bought for his fourth birthday. He had given it to Terrence on his day of birth.

Without even realizing it, he went over to his jacket and pulled his cell out.

He flipped through his contacts, wanting, needing to talk to someone.

He looked through them all, going round and round, trying to think of who wouldn't try to make him talk to Donna, wouldn't offer pithy advice, or wouldn't blame him for everything.

Circling back, Boden took his thumb off of the button and landed on a name he hadn't seen or really thought of in a long time.

In orangey-yellow Arial letters, Vic was spelled out.

Boden was still hesitating on what to do when he heard the sound of the number being dialed. He had unconsciously bumped the call button, and now he could hear the faint murmur of a response on the other end of the line.

"Hello." Came the dark voice. "Hello?" There was a moment's silence and it seemed that she'd hung up.

Just as he was about to close his phone, he heard her reach out one last time. "Wallace?"

Boden leaned forward, sinking down with relief. "I'm here." He finally answered in a muffled voice.

"I can't... I- I just... ohhh..." "Wallace, do you need help?" Vic demanded, already jumping to the rescue. "Wallace, answer me, damn it! Do you need an ambulance?! Is there someone there?"

"It's not like that... I just-" He couldn't even talk, it was too much effort. Everything hurt, and even breathing was hard. He didn't know what to do.

"Where are you?" Vic asked, her tone softening, but she was still firm. "I'll be right over."

Boden straightened slightly, willing himself to pull together. "No, this was a mistake... I'm.." "Bullshit! What do you think friends are for? I'm already locking up, so just give me the fucking address already."

With great effort he told her.

"Don't do anything stupid." She said the sound of her bike coming to life rumbled in his ear. "Love ya, Pal."

With that, he heard the line go dead.

"So, ok." Vic said, sitting down on the coffee table. She took his less injured hand in her own, his thick fingers severely dwarfing her's. "You wanna talk, or do you wanna drink?"

Boden's mouth hooked down into a sad frown. "Drink." He said in a low voice. Vic nodded and went towards the kitchen.

"Not here." He announced, and she turned. "You want to grab your bike, and we'll-" She started, but he cut her off. "Hell yeah." He said as he got to his feet. "And we'll head over to Quaker's." Vic stifled a grin. She had always thought it was kind of ironic that the bar was called Quaker's, seeing as how most Quakers avoided drinking.

Boden glanced at her and felt a bit of relief.

The garage door at Vic's place, was stuck. "Raahhh!" She grunted, trying to force it up.

Boden glanced up at the buttercup yellow curtains. "You still live up there?" He asked. "Why wouldn't I, it's my home." She replied, and he could hear the unspoken 'dumb-ass' at the end.

Vic got down in a sumo wrestler pose and tried once more to heave the door upward.

He lumbered over to the door and shoved it up as far as it would go. Which, in reality, wasn't that far.

"That's not going to work." Vic mumbled as Boden went around to the standard door on the other side.

She sloped after him, her hand unclasping the keys from her belt-loop.

Once inside, Boden went directly over to the covered bike and pulled off the tarp. The buffed chrome detailing shone in the dusty light. The flaked sky-blue paint glittered like sapphires, and the fishtails gleamed like the day he got it.

Slowly, he ran his hand down the length of the bike in a loving caress.

Boden turned a little to the side, and pulled Vic roughly towards him, squeezing her tight.

"Can you even ride like that?" She asked when he let her go, her ribs aching from the embrace. She pointed at his hands that she'd bandaged.

"You're not going to be able to stop me." He told her, and she looked him over. He was at least nine inches taller than she was, and had a good deal more muscle. "I could jump on you." She pointed out, swinging her arms as if she was warming up for it.

She got half a smile for it.

"Well, let's get your gear, then, you're not going to ride like that." She relented, walking over to the old armoire.

"Come on, we're going to be late!" Otis complained, thumping the back of his head against the door to the apartment.

"Yeah, yeah. I just need to find my book." Cruz called back from one of the bedrooms. "Did you move it? I can't find it at all!"

Otis glanced at the coffee table, and then the breakfast nook.

"I didn't touch it." He shouted back. "Where do you think you left it?" "If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking!" Cruz snapped, rushing through the hallway.

"This it?" Otis asked, holding up a purple and black book that was on the couch.

Cruz paused and sighed. "Yeah, that's it." He took it and shoved it in his pocket.

"What's the big deal?" Otis asked, holding the door open. "I mean, I thought you weren't a big reader, not really."

The other man looked at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" He demanded, putting his hands on his hips.

"Nothing, you just seem more like a movie and T.V. kinda guy." Otis replied.

"I read." Cruz stated defensively. "I read a lot, actually." He pulled out the book in the elevator. "I just really like this one because it's got a good tone, and an overall maca-bre feel to it."

Otis paused, a smug look on his face. "Maca-bre? No, it's pronounced, 'Macahb'." He insisted snottily. "If you're such a big reader, you should have known that."

Cruz heaved a great sigh. "Y'know, words can be, and are pronounced differently." He pointed out, wishing Otis wasn't such a priss about things like this.

"This one's not." Otis insisted as the doors closed.

Herrmann was outside, basking in the warm sun, his new, highly decorated t-shirt peeking out of his CFD shirt.

He squinted and turned slightly at the sound of a motor. An orange-yellow Jeep pulled into the lot, and Boden got out. A moment later, a short, sturdy woman got out as well, her large bust preceding her.

She went over to where Boden was, and embraced him firmly, her hands on his ass. Boden returned the gesture, kissing her full on the mouth.

Herrmann's whole face furrowed into a disapproving scowl, his fists planted at his waist. One look and it was obvious that he was very wound up.

"Later, 'gator." Vic murmured, breaking the kiss.

Tension slid off of Boden, as a smile played upon his lips. "After 'while, crocodile." He answered, before heading inside.

Herrmann shook his head, before spinning on his heel, and jogging into the house. He spied Dawson, and nudged her with his elbow, whispering the news to her.

Dawson looked through the window to the main hall of the firehouse, and saw Boden pass by.

Grinning, she replied, "Riiight." She leaned down and patted Pouch.

She watched Herrmann race out after the Chief.

He went over to Boden's office, asking Boden for a quick word.

"What's going on, you're a married man?" He demanded before the other man could say anything. "What's Donna going to think?"

"Donna? She's at her mother's place, with my son." He replied tersely, unhappy that Herrmann brought up his broken life. He had just gotten past that so that he could focus on the day ahead of him, now it was right there at the forefront of his mind. "It's always her baby, I wasn't even allowed to put in what I'd like for his name. Everything is her problem; remember when I was having trouble with the review board? Well, then it was her problem. It wasn't my problem. I couldn't even organize my father's funeral, for fuck's sake! And then she insisted that my bereavement leave be cut short." He ran a hand haphazardly through his slightly messy hair in annoyance. "So, we've broken up." He admitted. "Or, rather, she ran out with Terrance. She didn't even tell me, she just left early in the morning. All I heard was the door slamming."

"What about Terrence?" Herrmann asked as he stopped pacing around, unclenching his fists.

"I don't know." Boden breathed, leaning back in his chair. He was feeling more anxious as the conversation went on.

"I want to see my son. I want to-" The words sticking in his throat like razor blades.

Herrmann leaned forward and pressed the heels of his palms into his brow, before sliding his hands through his hair.

The fire alarm went off, and he shot Boden a sympathetic look. "Alright, I can see where you're coming from." He said, making for the door. "And if there's anything Cindy and I can do, just say it, OK?" Boden gave him a small push. "Thank you, now let's go."

"OK, so it's Forty-Fourth and Ashland." Casey announced, after opening his laptop.

Kidd leaned forward. "Huh, isn't there a daycare right around that area, or something?" She asked, looking at Dawson, who was clearly hoping that there wasn't.

"I thought that was an old folks' home." Mouch responded, as he finished doing up his jacket. He put on his helmet and elbowed Herrmann. "Say, isn't it an old folks' home?"

Herrmann came out of his thoughts and frowned at Mouch. "What?" He asked, because he hadn't heard a damn thing.

Casey turned in his seat, giving Herrmann a questioning look. "What's the problem?" He insisted, as Herrmann started to stare off again. "Christopher! I need your head clear." He watched him until Herrmann snapped to. "OK, Lieutenant." He quickly said, forcing himself to be more alert, just as they had stopped.

The building was a sort of 'y' shape. The short arm of the 'y' was pointing towards the backyard, while the long part of the 'y' was running slightly diagonal off the street.

One end of the building was already engulfed in flames. As they moved to go inside, there was a large explosion, and the cries for help grew louder.

The front door burst open, and a middle-aged man in a grey jump-suit stumbled out, dragging a withered old man, who still had an oxygen mask on.

Glancing over his shoulder, he began to speak rapidly, still dragging the man.

"Sick, real sick!" He shouted, tapping his temple, before forcefully pointing over the building at the backyard.

Borelli began to walk over, talking as he did so. "It's alright, we've got it from here." The man didn't seem too reassured by this, and continued to gesture. He made eye contact with Dawson, and began speaking rapid-fire Portuguese, gesturing with both hands.

Dawson's eyes went wide, as Casey patted her shoulder, and indicated that they were going in, and he'd leave Mouch with her.

"Wait, I..." But Casey was already gone. She sighed. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Habla Inglés?" She said trying to calm him.

"Hey, the building has a small arm branching off here, it's only four storeys." Severide said over the com, as he made his way inside.

Barely his third step in, there was another explosion, this one smaller than the first.

"There's a gas leak back here!" Capp yelled. Severide turned his com back on. "What do you want us to do?" He said to the Chief. He didn't get to hear the response because all of a sudden, a person bolted out of a room, and facing more flames, began to scream, while running around in circles, arms flailing.

"Severide! Report!" Boden barked again, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Everyone, get out of there, it's too dangerous."

Another person got out of the building, coughing, their flank aflame.

Dawson tackled her, swatting out the flames, before assessing the damage. Mouch crouched down, offering a bottle of water. The woman pushed it away, her eyes wild. "Oh, please, help me, help me, oh my gosh-" Dawson made the woman look at her. "It's OK, you need to just breathe." She said reassuringly.

The woman continued to stare at Mouch. "There are more people in there, they can't get out! Some can't even move on their own, please help." She begged, as Mouch waved over Boden, who knelt down beside her. "What are we dealing with, and where are they?" He demanded, and the woman gulped a few times.

"Where's the freakin' gas company?!" Severide's voice snapped, as erratic screaming streamed through the speaker.

"They're on their way, now get out of there!" Boden snarled, turning back to the woman.

"The back is the dementia ward, but none of the tenants are capable of getting out on their own." She coughed and gasped, as Brett fitted an oxygen mask onto her face. "There's roughly fifty-three tenants, and thirteen of us."

"Fire department, call out!" Casey shouted, opening doors, checking as quickly as possible.

Otis, grabbed his sleeve. "You hear that?" He asked, pausing. Casey cocked his head and heard something banging against metal. "Yeah." He was already going in the direction of the sound.

He opened the door, and saw a woman at least nine-hundred pounds, wearing an oxygen mask. She waved a hockey stick in the air as if proving to them that she was still alive.

Casey jogged over. "Can you walk?" He asked her, as Otis got down on his hands and knees, checking to see if the bed would roll.

The woman coughed, unable to talk.

"The bed moves." Otis announced, standing up. "We're going to need help." He added, as Casey pulled on the frame of the bed.

"South-East corner, ground floor. I have a bedridden woman, we need someone to help us move the bed." He stated urgently, still trying to inch it free.

The bed started shaking as the woman began panicking. Otis looked up and saw about a third of the ceiling was engulfed in orange flames. "Crap." He muttered, tugging at the bottom of the bed. "Casey, we've got to get out, now!"

The hockey stick whistled through the air, and caught Casey in the shoulder, making him stagger and almost fall into the bed.

"Guys, the-" Severide rounded the corner, and a huge chunk of ceiling landed on the woman and Otis.

The woman began to scream, and thrashed violently.

As Otis tried to brush the fallen debris from himself, while Severide helped him up, and shoved the worst of the rubble off of the bed.

"You grab that corner, Casey, you steer, alright? Let's go!" With that, they gave a mighty heave and got the bed rolling, and commenced running down the hall. The further they went, the more the building came apart.

Close to the door, they nearly ran over Cruz, who was half-carrying a blind woman, who was shaking all over, and babbling.

"Come on." Cruz urged, putting the blind woman on the bed as well, before grabbing the front end of the frame, and they flew down the hall, and out the front door.

There was one last explosion, and Casey felt it go right through his jacket.

As they were handing the two women over to the EMT's, Otis nudged Cruz, and nodded at Boden, who was rapidly approaching. "I thought I told you to get out!" He barked when he was four feet from them. "As soon as it was assessed that it was too dangerous, everyone should have gotten out of the building."

"What, we're just supposed to leave everyone in there?" Severide snapped.

Boden stepped forward until his face was just inches from Severide's. "When I say get out, you damn well listen to me." He spat. "How many people do I have to lose, before you realize that you can't always save everyone." He shook his head, and took a step back. "OK everyone, we've done all we can, it's time to clear out."

"That's typical!" Said a man who wandered onto the lawn of the smoldering building. The scorn in his voice plain. "This is how our tax dollars are spent? A half-assed job, that was wasted on people who should have laid down and died years ago." He gestured around. "I remember back in the day, firemen were actually useful."

Both lieutenants stepped forward, subtly shielding the chief. "You've got to go, you can't be here," Casey stated forcefully, gesturing to the sidewalk.

The man scoffed. "I can't be here, but he can?" He stabbed a short, stubby finger at Boden. "I've got more right to be here, then that-" "Take a step back." Severide insisted, closing the distance between the two of them.

Otis gently put a hand on Boden's arm. He tipped his head at the people who were just standing around, rubbernecking.

"That boy's got you on a tight leash, doesn't he?" the man laughed, running his tongue around his mouth. "You should have let them burn."

The next thing Severide knew, the man was on the ground, with Severide pushing his knee into his chest.

Casey grabbed Severide around the upper chest. "Get off of him, quick." He whispered, pulling Severide to his feet. "This isn't happening."

Funeral like silence pervaded the firehouse, seeping into the very mortar itself, filling the crews' ears with the tortured screams of people who couldn't be saved, the ones they never reached, never found.

Pouch heard footsteps, and took her head off of Mouch's leg. She sat up, licked Mouch's face, and went to check out the newcomer.

Chaplain Orlovsky leaned down, and scratched her ears while surveying the firefighters and EMTs.

"Well, at least someone's happy to see me." He joked, before going to the long table and placing a two-kilogram box of chocolates on it.

"I thought you guys might like something sweet." He took out the card that stated which candy was what and placed it on top.

"Connie called me, and said that I might be useful around here." He looked at them all, but they avoided looking at him. "So, I'm going to get some coffee, but if anyone wants to talk, I'm all ears." He pulled on his right ear, careful not to pop out his hearing aid.

He got his coffee and sat next to Pouch.

Cruz grabbed the chocolate card and looked it over, before stealing all the rose ones.

Comfortable in his spot, Orlovsky saw a youngish rough and tumble man mosey in.

He got up and went over to the newcomer, who was taking in the place. "Can I help you?" Orlovsky asked, standing between the man and his firefighters.

"I'm here to see Chief Boden." The man replied simply, thumbs in his belt-loops.

Orlovsky nodded once. "And you are?" He asked suspiciously.

"A friend." The other guy said, not moving.

Orlovsky took a moment to weigh this, thinking about what the Chief had just been through. He decided that the Chief could use a good friend right now.

Boden was at his desk, he felt like a cardboard cutout.

He stared at his phone which was on the blotter.

His arms felt like lead weights, he couldn't make himself pick up the phone.

There was a quiet tap on the door frame, and a grunt was issued from inside.

Slowly, the door was eased open, and Boden felt tears come to his eyes.

The visitor practically ran across the room, before cradling Boden's head to his chest.

"Vic." Boden choked out, wrapping his arms around Vic's waist, and wept.

After a couple of minutes of tears and comfort, he was able to pull himself together. He leaned away from Vic, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Vic leaned towards him, wiping Boden's tears away, before placing his lips onto Boden's.

After a long, intimate embrace, Vic asked, "Are we still on for tonight?" He looked into Boden's eyes, concerned for his well-being.

"Of course, we are, Baby." Boden answered, kissing the palm of Vic's hand.

Rolling the chocolate around in his mouth, Severide made several bizarre faces. "What the fuck is this?!" He asked, snatching the card from Brett, who was still undecided as to what to try.

"Honey? Who the heck puts honey in chocolate?" He lifted the box up to read the ingredients.

"Ooh, they've honey?" Brett asked, intrigued. "Which ones?"

"It didn't taste like honey." Severide continued, still outraged by the candy.

Brett took back the card, looking for honey chocolate. "Oh, the hive ones." She nodded as she picked it up. "That's adorable."

"What is?" Dawson asked, coming over, and leaning on the table. Brett held out the candy. "That is, that's so cute." Dawson agreed, before stealing it. "So tasty, too!" She said around the chocolate.

A CFID official strode in and came to a halt. He planted his hands on his belt.

"Which one of you is Kelly Severide?" He demanded in a high, nasal voice.

Cruz snorted and leaned over to Otis. "Sounds like someone's squeezing his balls."

Otis covered his mouth, and pressed his thumb to his nose so he wouldn't snort.

Severide tilted his head back and up. He raised his index finger slightly into the air.

The man marched over to him, and handed him a manila envelope. "You are hereby suspended pending further investigation, regarding the assault and battery of former police officer Todd Glass." He announced.

Severide's mouth opened. "You've got to be kidding me!" He declared, reading through the form letter.

"You've got a very strange sense of humour if you think assault is funny." The officer squeaked and flounced off, his nose high in the air.

Severide got to his feet and headed towards the Chief's office.

"The Chief's busy." Connie announced, not even looking up from her monitor.

"Yeah, well, this is important." Severide imparted, knocking as he opened the door.

Just as he walked through the door, he saw Boden and the scruffy guy in each other's arms, deeply absorbed in a passionate kiss.

Startled, Severide quickly shut the door, figuring that he could wait for a bit.

Severide sought out Casey. He found him by the coffee pot.

"Uh... You got a minute?" Severide asked, staring past Herrmann, who was on his way to get coffee.

"Sure, what's up?" Casey inquired. The other man said nothing, hesitating.

"Everything all right?" Herrmann asked, adding lots of sugar to his coffee.

"Uh, yeah." He answered distractedly.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Casey pressed, taking a sip off his cup.

Severide motioned for Casey to follow, and they stepped into the equipment room.

"Have you noticed anything weird or different about the chief, lately?" He asked in a low voice.

After a moment's hesitation. Casey spilled his guts about the mystery woman that Herrmann had blabbed to him and Mouch about.

"I had insisted that it didn't go any further, because he's obviously going through a tough time right now." Casey concluded, then asked Severide why the question.

Severide looked nonplussed, really wondering at this point.

The alarm sounded, and they both stiffened, thinking that neither of them had any more to give that day.

The speaker clarified that it was an ambulance call.

Casey punched him in the arm. "Come on, let's talk in my office."

As they stepped out, Kidd wolf whistled, and Dawson crossed her arms looking serious. "Should I worry?" She asked Severide with a frown.

"Well, we do live together." Severide trailed off, before flashing a grin.

They went to Casey's office, shutting the door behind them, picking up where they left off.

Severide explained that the chief wasn't with a mystery woman, but with a dude in his office.

"So, what are you trying... No." Casey stated, shaking his head, toying with a golf tee. "No. Wait! You trying to tell me the chief's... That the chief's gay?"

"Yeah, maybe. I don't know." Severide shrugged.

They decided there wasn't much else to say, so they came out of Casey's office.

"What's this all about, you and Casey?" Herrmann asked, having come up quietly to them. "First the equipment room, now this?"

"It's nothing, really." Severide answered. Casey ducked away stealthily, as he does, as they were speaking.

It was nearly the end of day, and Connie came up to Severide in the hall. "Chief wants to see you."

Casey pointed at his chest. "No, not you." Connie shook her head.

Severide asked what it's about. "You'll have to ask the Chief." As she walked away, she filled her cheeks with air, and slowly released it.

Once inside the office, Boden inquired as to the investigation against his lieutenant.

Severide let out a sigh. "Not so good, chief." He admitted. "I've got a suspension until who knows when, and I don't know if Glass is going to be pressing charges, or what."

"I have a feeling that Glass is one of those people who would rather see your career in the toilet than press charges." Boden remarked sadly.

Severide bobbed his head. "Well, at least I have that to look forward to."

Boden waved his hand through the air. "You know, if there's anything you need, if there's anything I can do to help..." He sighed. "Y'know, we're family, and we're all here for you."

"Thanks." Severide rubbed his head. "I guess I'll be going home, then."

Boden got to his feet. "Give me a minute, and I'll walk you out."

As they stepped out into the sunlight, Boden turned to Severide. "How are you doing?" He inquired softly.

"Oh, you know." Severide looked at his toes. "You just keep going, right?"

Boden leaned back stretching his back. "I want you to make an appointment with the Chaplain." He told him. "Make and keep it, Kelly." He nodded as he took a step back. "Keep me posted, don't drop me from the loop."

At the end of shift, it had been an easier day compared to the one before, but everyone was still reeling from it.

As everyone was getting ready to go home, they saw a woman leaning against the truck.

Boden strode over to her, and put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad to see you." He murmured, tipping his head towards her.

Nearby, people paid attention, curiosity piqued.

He and Vic headed out, as Casey came up behind them and cleared his throat in a "who's this?" sort of way.

Boden put his arm around the woman, a huge smile plastered to his face. "This is Victoria." He introduced her casually. "Vic, this is lieutenant Matt Casey. He runs truck eighty-one." He gestured to the truck Vic had been propped against.

Vic stuck out her hand and gave him a nice, strong handshake. "It's nice to meet you." She said, pumping his hand twice.

"Um, yeah, likewise." Casey replied awkwardly.

Vic tipped her head at the outside. "Shall we go?" She smiled.

Boden smiled back and they strolled over to Boden's motorcycle, and her custom Harley chopper.

Back at Vic's place, she told him to get cleaned up and changed. "I've got something that you haven't tasted in a long time." She winked as he padded toward her room.

Vic went to the kitchen and started making shrimp Veracruzana, with spiced rice and pan-fried corn.

She put tequila and two icy cold bottles of Pacifico on the table, before setting glasses over the bottles.

"Food's cooked." Vic said loudly, taking plates out of the oven, and dishing up.

Boden came out, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms.

Days went by without any sight of Victoria.

Casey strolled nonchalantly over to Severide. "Guess you were wrong about Boden." He declared, walking into the common room, surprised to find the scruffy-looking guy standing there with hands in the back pockets of his jeans stretching his back.

Boden came in to get coffee, and was happy to notice that Vic was there.

He got his coffee and sidled over to the young man.

Boden placed his arm around the man's shoulder and slid his hand down the man's spine for a quick butt grab.

Severide looked on with amusement. "You two seem awfully chummy." He looked from one to the other. "Something going on here?"

"Like what, exactly?" Boden deflected, smiling into his coffee.

"Oh, you know." Casey chimed in. Severide crossed his arms.

"No, I don't know." Boden insisted. Vic leaned forward, and raised his brows at his lover.

The alarm sounded before Vic could silently rebuke him.

Severide thumped Casey on the arm. "Good luck." He said, sounding a little sad for himself.

Meanwhile, Vic wandered over to the couch, plopping down to watch the T.V..

Severide put his hands in his pockets, and wandered over to the T.V. set. He began to pester Vic to find out who he was, and what he had to do with Boden. But Vic was not very forthcoming, and remained cagey.

Severide took a deep breath. "Well, I guess I'll head out." He said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder, taking a step backward. "By the way, how's Donna?"

Vic looked up. "Who's Donna?" He asked. He knew who Donna was, but Vic was so angry at what the woman had done, he wanted to weed out who was by her side, rather than Boden's.

Severide froze. He was unhappy about this, and he thought about the effects this might have on Donna and Terrance.

"Well, this area is for firefighters only, I'm going to have to ask you to please leave." He said firmly.

"Can't I just wait in Wallace's office?" Vic asked, rubbing his hands up and down the front of his thighs.

"No, I'm sorry you have to leave." Severide insisted, staring at Vic pointedly.

"All right." Vic grumbled, leaving in disappointment.

He went and sat on the frontage, reading the book he'd brought with him.

While waiting for Boden to return, Vic fell asleep on the lawn.

As the trucks pulled in, they saw the still form laying on their verge.

The equipment was put away. The trucks were cleaned, and the crew speculated about the man relaxing with a book on their lawn.

"Hey, why does that guy look familiar?" Otis voiced his curiosity.

As Herrmann opened his mouth, the alarm sounded once again.

"Lucky you." Capp teased Brett, as she walked past.

It turned out to be a false alarm. A stoner had his hand stuck in a pickle jar, and they had a hard time convincing him to let go of the pickles so that he could get his hand out. Borelli had to calm the man and walk him through the steps.

After they returned to the house, Brett went over to the sleeper on the front lawn.

She shook the man's leg and asked him if he had a place to stay, offering to help locate temporary shelter.

Stifling a yawn, Vic responded, "I was waiting for Chief Boden inside, but was told I had to leave."

"Who told you you had to leave?" She asked, crouching down.

"Square-ish face, salt and pepper hair, kinda buff." Vic sat up, sticking a dry leaf in the book, marking the page.

"Ah-hah, you mean Severide!"

"Uh-huh, yeah, anyway, he told me to leave, so I came out here to read. I guess I fell asleep."

"Well, the chief's here now if you want to speak to him." Brett smiled and stood up. She extended her hand and helped Vic to his feet.

"I've been thinking about things, and y'know what I think you should do?" Herrmann asked Boden, who looked uncomfortable, while Herrmann paced.

"You should sue for divorce and custody. Well... maybe joint custody, that's going too far." Herrmann bubbled forth. "Remember to apply for custody now, because it's a lot harder for the fathers to keep hold of their kids. And while you're at it, press charges against that-" Boden held up his hand. "I want to thank you for your help and your... enthusiasm, your support." Boden told him.

Herrmann shrugged. "Well, Cindy and I've been talking." He admitted.

Boden's jaw tensed and his brows went up. "Uh-huh, who else have you been talking to?" He pressed.

Herrmann clammed up, becoming very interested in the pattern of the lino.

There was a tap at the door, and Connie peeked in, looking put-upon. "There's a young man who wants to see you." She put her hand on her hip. "What do you want me to tell him?"

"I think that's my cue." Herrmann said, inching towards the door. He stopped when he noticed the guy trying to peer over Connie's shoulder.

He couldn't place the guy's face. It niggled at the back of his mind, and the more he pursued it, the harder it was for him to pin down.

Boden's eyes lit up, and he nodded. Connie pursed her lips and gave him a disapproving look, then left for her desk.

Vic came in, and glanced sidelong at Herrmann. Boden cleared his throat, and Herrmann snapped to. "Would you mind giving us a moment or two?" Boden asked, tapping a pencil against the desktop.

"Actually, I would." Herrmann replied. "I get it about Donna, but, I first see you getting a little too close with a woman who is not your wife, and what happened in the common room, if you catch my drift?" He gave Vic a look, wondering what exactly Vic was.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Vic demanded, crossing his arms, and stepping forward. "And what is with that look? Is there a pentagram on my forehead, or something?"

"No, I'm just trying to figure out who you are, what your business is with my friend. For your information, I'm Christopher Herrmann." The older guy snipped, taking some satisfaction from the fact that he was slightly taller.

Vic dropped his arms and huffed. "Who I am, is none of your fuckin' business, pal!" He growled, sizing up Herrmann.

"You want to take this outside?" Herrman said, his voice rising. "How about we settle this like men?"

Vic's hands curled into fists. "Don't tempt me to knock you on your ass, geezer." He warned in a low snarl.

Boden jumped to his feet, and put himself in between them, forcing them both back.

"That is enough!" He shouted, as Herrmann dodged to the side, and Vic shoved his hand out of the way.

"Geezer, huh?! I'll show you, you little punk!" Herrmann yelled, getting in Vic's face. "I was a marine before I was a fireman."

"Oh, blow me, you prick." Vic spat, winding up for a punch.

Boden grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks, yanking backward, nearly pulling them off their feet. "I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!" He bellowed, his anger flowing to the surface like lava.

"Herrmann, go to the sleeping quarters, I'll talk to you shortly." Boden ordered, shoving his friend to the door.

He looked at all the faces in the doorway, in the windows. He knew there was no way he could gloss this over.

He let go of Vic's collar. "You, you're here, and you'll stay here until I come back." He fumed, exiting the office, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"The rest of you, meeting room, now."

Mouch stared at Herrmann's empty seat, as Boden waited for everyone to settle down.

"Now, seeing as how I'm not allowed to have a life outside of 51, I'm just going to put all my cards on the table, so there's no room for confusion, or wild speculation." The Chief's voice resounded through the room. As he looked at all of them in turn, he began pacing, his anger spilling over into the room.

"Donna and I are a thing of the past." He announced, clasping his hands behind his back. "I'm going to try to get joint custody of my son Terrance. I'd appreciate any support in that regard, that you're willing to give."

He looked around the room again. "Most of you have met Victoria already. You just saw her in my office."

Borelli raised his hand. "Wasn't that, like, a guy in there?" He asked hesitantly.

"So?" Dawson asked, crossing her arms, giving him a challenging look. "Love for all, right? And so what if the guy's name's Victoria? Names don't really define a person, after all."

"Thank you, Dawson." Boden told her, feeling grateful for the support.

"Victoria is a woman, though, and one of my nearest, and dearest friends." Boden continued.

Mouch tapped his knuckles on the table, and gave a look of disappointment, Boden saw, and pushed his jaw out, choosing to ignore him.

"I thought you said that that was a woman, she doesn't look like a woman." Borelli piped up, and Mouch nodded.

"For crying out loud, Borelli!" Dawson half yelled impatiently as she got to her feet. "She's a drag king, look it up if you can't figure it out."

"Come on Dawson, give him a break." Casey urged, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'm just supposed to give him a break." Dawson said sarcastically, grimacing. "Sorry, Borelli, did you get your feelings hurt?" She fell back into her seat, shaking her head.

"Hey! I don't think you're being very fair!" Borelli complained, sitting up straighter. "This is, quite frankly, very strange. You can act all high and mighty, but this isn't exactly an everyday kind of thing. It's not as cut and dry as you're pretending."

"Where the hell have you been living?" Dawson demanded. "This is not only an 'everyday thing', but it's something that's been happening since the stone ages. Why don't you get your head out your-" "Well, the Church-" "Borelli, are you a virgin?" Cruz asked, leaning forward.

Confused, Borelli shook his head. "No, why?" He asked.

"Well, you're not married, so I really don't think you have a right to be bringing in the church to this conversation." Cruz stated with a smug grin.

"Yes!" Dawson cheered, pumping her fist into the air.

"Perhaps we should let the Chief finish." Casey intoned.

"Thank you." Boden told him with a sigh. "Now, that's been dealt with, as we know we're down by one firefighter, and we've all been questioned about what happened with Severide and Glass, and I don't know when we'll get Severide back. The investigation is still ongoing. Casey, I want you to check in on Severide, and see how he's holding up."

"Sure thing." Casey nodded.

"The rest of you, most of you haven't been to see the Chaplain. There will be no more putting it off. If I hear of one more person avoiding going to see him, I'll suspend them myself, and they will not come back before completing a psych evaluation."

Capp raised his hand. "What you do is your business, I appreciate that, Chief, what you do with that woman/man, but do we always call her/him Victoria?" He asked awkwardly.

"No, you call him Vic." Boden answered.

"But what about Victoria." Mouch asked, pointing at Boden. "I mean, you just said that his name's Victoria."

Casey clapped a hand over his eye. "Forget it, Mouch. It's just Vic." He said, shaking his head.

"Thank you all for your time." Boden said, opening the door.

As Boden headed over to the sleeping quarters, Connie jogged up to him. "There's a man in your office, he refuses to leave, and he just blew right past me." She told him, shaking with rage. "You've got your work cut out for you with this one. I was half expecting him to have a confederate flag on his belt buckle. He called me 'girl' and told me to get behind my desk." She pointed at the phone on her desk. "Just one word, and I'll call the cops." She snorted. "I don't think they'll do much good, but what can you do?"

Glass had found out where Severide worked, and he had forced his way into Boden's office, displacing Vic.

Boden threw open the door with such force, that it bounced back, swinging shut.

"How dare you come in here, let yourself into my office, and speak so disrespectfully to any of my staff!" Boden avowed. "Now I'm going to ask you to leave, and as you do so, you can politely make an appointment with my receptionist to schedule a meeting at a later date, or just go back to whatever hole you wormed out of." He pointed at the door. "I assume you know how to use it."

Glass cleared his throat and looked over Boden's left shoulder. "You're in the wrong place, you should have never been made chief. Those who let you have this chair have done the city a great disservice." He declared, not moving. "Not much wonder that the lieutenant is acting out. Rebelling, as it is. Rebelling against you."

"I'm sorry, did I ask what you thought was the problem?" Boden snapped. "Are you going to leave, or do I have to have you removed?"

"Maybe I just need a chat with Severide and we can work this out good and proper." Glass went on, ignoring the other man. "This place needs a real Chief."

Boden gritted his teeth. "If you insist on staying, would you like me to throw down some straw? Maybe dig you a mud pit?" He leaned in. "Get the fuck out, before I pitch you out into the street."

Glass got to his feet. "You're not worth talking to." He claimed, not looking at Boden. "But at least I know what the problem is." With that, he left, and Boden resisted the urge to break something.

Connie peeked in. "You OK, Chief?" She asked, setting a cup of her special tea on his desk.

"Never better." Boden lied, picking up the tea.

It took some doing, but it was mostly thanks to Orlovsky, that they got Severide back so quickly.

When it came time for his interview with CFID, he had brought a large stack of papers with him.

"Before we start talking about Kelly Severide's behavior, I would like to ask you all to go through this with me."

He pushed a newspaper towards one, a report to another, and scattered testimonies, letters and cards to the others.

"The newspaper came out a few hours after the fire, and because it was so big, of course, it was well documented." He half shrugged as he looked at them as if to say, that's always how it is.

"The death toll was high, they knew that, but as you can see, they lost a lot of people in there."

"Severide was one of the last people out of there, and I can tell you from personal experience, that if you're the last one out, and you know you've left someone behind, it just eats you alive. You weren't fast enough, you didn't make the right decision, and someone paid the price of their life for it." Orlovsky tapped the newspaper. "Forty-seven people died, including two firemen." Orlovsky cleared his throat, waiting for that to sink in. "Lieutenant Severide and three other firemen nearly died pulling two people from the blaze, one of them was bedridden, the other was blind. They had to drag the bed through smoky hallways, as oxygen tanks exploded."

"And as soon as they were out? He was told that those people were a wasted effort. They didn't deserve to live!" Orlovsky sank back in his chair, running his eyes over the faces. "You could be the sweetest, gentlest person, and I'm sure you'd react the same, especially when you hear racial slurs thrown at your friends. I'm sure I would."

A few days later Boden was looking up at the courthouse.

"I don't know how you do it." Vic disclosed, fixing his collar and tie. "You always look disheveled." She reached up and smoothed his hair, or at least tried to. "You look like a slob."

He gave her a cheeky grin. "But you like it." He pointed out, kissing her nose.

"Yeah, but you still look like a slob." She looked him up and down. "You look fabulous. The look works for you."

"You're mighty fine." He conceded looking her over from head to toe.

She wore a toffee coloured suede skirt suit, an orchid silk blouse, and ladies' Oxfords.

Vic smoothed down his tie that matched her shirt, anxiously.

She looked over the charcoal pinstriped suit, the purple shirt, and the highly polished shoes.

"Maybe you should have gone with the white shirt." She said doubtfully, thinking that perhaps the purple would be seen as too frivolous.

"Too late now, we've got to get in there." Boden responded, his back stiffening.

"You guys look good." Brett encouraged. "Very professional."

They walked into the courtroom together, and Boden watched Donna, who was looking back with a poker face.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She whispered when he was close enough.

"Who's looking after Terrance?" He returned, ignoring her question.

"He's safe, he's with my mother." Donna replied.

"Everybody take your seats." The judge intoned, claiming hers. "As you are aware, this is not a trial, but a hearing to decide with whom Terrance Boden will reside, and whether joint custody will be provided."

The judge steepled her fingers and looked from one parent to the other. "Please note that I am against the common trend of just assuming that the mother is the better parent. I will be weighing each testimony, and each piece of evidence before making my decision. I will award custody to the parent who I deem as the best choice for the child, seeing as how the person in question is unable to speak for himself." She lowered her hands. "In my court, I will not allow sniping, backbiting, or any other stunts."

"We will begin with the testimony of Donna Robbins, the mother of the aforementioned child, then we will go onto Wallace Boden, the father. After that, the court will hear from the character witnesses and the evidence of Terrance's home life. The results of this hearing will be sent out to each concerned party."

The hearing took over two and a half hours, and it had been grueling.

Vic leaned on Boden's arm as they stepped out into the sunlight.

"Now what?" She asked, exhausted.

"Molly's?" Herrmann suggested, squinting.

"Yeah." Dawson agreed, grabbing Casey's hand.

Boden frowned. "I don't know, I just... I'm wearing a tie!" He complained.

"So?" Casey remarked. "Yeah, so?" Otis jumped in.

Vic hooked her finger into the knot and pulled, taking it off, before draping it around her neck.

Dawson stole it, and put it on. "I think it suits me, what do you think?" Casey fingered the tie. "Mmm, definitely."

At Molly's Otis handed Cruz a Mai Tai. "Thanks," Cruz said, tipping the glass towards his friend, before gesturing around the bar. "It's very chthonic around here, isn't it?"

Otis made a face. "What?" Cruz just smiled and walked away.

"No seriously, what does that mean? Cruz! Come on!"

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic.
> 
> I love feedback as it helps me know what you like and don't like. It also lets me learn where/what I need to work on as a writer.
> 
> Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Have a nice day.


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